


A Lucky Man

by Introvertia



Category: Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)
Genre: Brandy the Dog - Freeform, Car Accidents, Car Sex, Drug Use, Excessive Drinking, Hollywood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Once upon a time in Hollywood - Freeform, One Shot, Oral Sex, middle aged men being idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertia/pseuds/Introvertia
Summary: Rick flies off to a film festival in Berlin, causing friction between him and Cliff. Cliff gets a job doing what he does best, driving cars at dangerous speeds. There's a messy accident on the set and while Cliff is on the mend there's a chance their relationship might not recover from the chaos and stress of their summer of 1970.
Relationships: Cliff Booth/Rick Dalton
Comments: 17
Kudos: 41





	A Lucky Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [USSTrashBarge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSTrashBarge/gifts).



**A Lover’s Quarrel**

**Part 1**

**June 21, 1970**

Cliff walked up the narrow sloping road that led to Rick’s home with his best girl Brandy towing him. Her tail was wagging fast, as though it could propel her all the way home and right to her food dish. It was a pleasantly warm summer evening, the air was relatively clear for Hollywood. Cliff lit a cigarette and looked down at penny eyed Brandy.

“You’re breaking the rules. I set the pace.” Cliff said reprimanding her.

Unfazed and jolly in her demeanor Brandy looked at him with her smiling canine mug and sneezed twice. Cliff clicked his tongue and she slowed down and took her position beside him. Cliff’s left leg was giving him pains. He glanced over at the Polanski’s gate as he limped past it, they’d been out of the country for sometime and the neighborhood had become down right peaceful, which he appreciated. No all night parties to interrupt his and Rick’s sleep. Not that it took much to wake up Rick. Rick woke up at the slightest sound, and in turn would wake up Cliff, often by violently shaking him awake to ask him if he heard ‘that noise’, Cliff would inevitably tell him no he hadn’t, and that if Brandy wasn’t on her feet, then all was well. Sometimes that was enough to get Rick settled, but not always.

Rick, in Cliff’s opinion, had a bit of delicate constitution, and it was probably for the best that he’d never been drafted. Rick had never fully recovered from the night the hippies had broken in to his home. It didn’t seem to matter how many days past, as soon as it got dark, if Rick wasn’t preoccupied he’d get paranoid, some nights he would insist on leaving lights on in the all the rooms, other times he just wouldn’t sleep. Lately Rick had improved, and Cliff hoped he was on his way to being normal again, or as close to normal as someone as artistic as Rick could be.

Cliff put his key in the door and unleashed Brandy sending her off to find Rick, it was her habit to locate him first thing, every time they returned to the house from a walk. She liked to keep tabs on him, after nearly seven months of living in Rick’s home, Brandy had decided he was one of them, the pack of two had become three.

It was getting close to a year since those kids had broken into Rick’s house and changed their lives forever, there was a small part of Cliff that thought quite possibly for the better, aside from his aching leg.

Cliff went to the kitchen and served up Brandy’s dinner, he could hear Rick talking to her.

“Don’t let her on the bed, she’ll never get down,” Cliff called and then said to himself, "At least not for you.”

“You make it sound like I have a choice.” Rick said walking into the kitchen.

Brandy trotted around him and looked at her bowl waiting for her signal that it was time to eat. Cliff made a quick double click with his tongue and Brandy nose dived into her dish.

“She just knows she can walk all over you, so she does.” Cliff said in a resigned tone.

“Well she’s got a head as thick as her daddy.” Rick said with a smile.

“Uh huh.”Cliff agreed, he grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. He turned and smiled at Rick, but he felt the smile catch. Rick very obviously had something on his mind. Cliff and took a swallow of water and then rested the glass on the counter.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Cliff asked.

“Do I have a look on my face?” Rick asked, buying time.

“You have that same look on your face as you did last Thanksgiving when you forgot to make the reservations at Lawry’s.” Cliff paused watching Rick squirm, “and you swallowed just like that when the maître d’ told us they were booked solid for the night.”

“I’d thought about calling so much, I just thought I’d done it.” Rick said sheepishly.

“You got me dressed up in a monkey suit and dragged me out to Beverly Hills, when you know I’d been happier with some hot cornbread and a cold beer on the couch.” Cliff chuckled. “So whatever’s going on Rick, spit it out.”

“I’m going to Berlin.” Rick said, and folded his arms, his brow slightly raised.

“Berlin? I haven’t been there in a life time.” Cliff said thoughtfully.

“I’m going to the f-film festival.” Rick shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled his neck.

“Why?” Cliff asked sensing Rick was leaving things out, “You don’t have any new pictures, are you going to rub elbows with the European film crowd? I know how much you loved working in Italy.” Cliff said sarcastically.

“Why do you have to make it sound like I’m some greasy Hollywood type?” Rick asked defensively.

“It’s just an expression.” Cliff replied all the while watching Rick with a penetrating gaze.

“I didn’t love Italy, my head got all turned around.” Rick said petulantly.

“I know that’s how you ended up with Francesca.” Cliff joked, but then shut his mouth when he watched the color drain from Rick’s face.

“Are you going to see her?” Cliff asked.

“Well, you know, we’re only sep-separated, the-the fans all think she and I are still m-married,” Rick started speaking faster.

“By the fans you mean her Roman-Catholic parents.” Cliff said flatly.

“And she’s got a part in a film, Il Conformista, and she wants me to walk her down the carpet and all that.” Rick said.

“She left you last November, and after all this time she just,” Cliff snapped his fingers, “Snaps her fingers and you go running?” Cliff’s tone was even, but he was shaking his head. He turned his empty glass over in the sink and opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of beer.

“It’s very taboo for Italian women to get divorced.” Rick mumbled in his defense.

“uh-huh.” Cliff replied leaning back on the sink, “Well considering it’s been almost nine months since she left I guess I should be glad she’s not calling to tell you she’s delivered a little blue eyed bambino.”

“What’s got into you? Don’t joke about things like that.” Rick said looking horrified.

“Well, don’t expect me to jump up and clap my hands to make you feel better about this trip of yours. I don’t like it and I’m sayin’ as much.”

“Cliff, you’re not being fair, think about what I’m going through here, this is for her career as well as my own, my career bought this house, that we-we live in.”

“Oh I can move out.” Cliff shrugged.

Rick’s face changed several shades then settled on red, “Don’t be ab-absurd. I’m going to Berlin, staying for the film festival and then I’m coming home, to you. And I refuse to feel bad about it.”

“Good.” Cliff said as he pulled off his shirt walking to the bathroom.

“I’m making the right choice here.” Rick followed Cliff to the bathroom.

“Fine.” Cliff said and shut the bathroom door in Rick’s face.

Rick rested his temple on the bathroom door feeling like an exile. He heard the shower head hissing and spitting water. Rick puffed out a long breath of air and walked into the kitchen where Brandy was cleaning out her bowl with her usual gusto. He sat down on the cool linoleum floor next to her and pat her ribs.

“Brandy, you better be here when I get back. Tell your daddy there’s not going to be any funny business.” Rick squeezed Brandy to his side, her tail whipped lightly against his hip. “You don’t want to leave me, now do you?”

Brandy’s tail beat double time and she licked his chin.

**Bon Voyage**

**Part 2**

**June 22, 1970**

Cliff cut across the lanes and squeezed his beat up blue Karmann Ghia into a spot right in front of the gate to Rick’s flight. Rick shielded his eyes with his hand, the bright sunlight was making his eyes water, and his suit jacket was making him sweat.

“Why is it always such a zoo at this airport?” Rick complained getting out of the car, “and why didn’t we take my Cadillac?” Rick threw his cigarette in an ashtray and ran a comb over his head quickly, moving with nervous energy.

“You know I love that whale, but for getting around all this traffic you need a shark.” Cliff said patting the side of his car.

“Guess you’re right, we got here with plenty of time.” Rick reached into his jacket pulling out his wallet and passport. “Maybe you should find a place to park and we could hit the bar before I get on the plane?”

Cliff set Rick’s suitcases down on the sidewalk and stuck out his hand, “I don’t want to shell out the cash for parking, and besides your flight leaves in twenty-five minutes.”

Rick looked down at Cliff’s proffered hand and shook it, “Yeah, of course,” Rick nodded, his blue eyes getting damp, “you’re right. I guess it’s Auf Wiedersehen, then. Uh, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Have a good time in Berlin, and be sure to give Francesca my best.”

“I’m gonna miss you.” Rick said quickly not letting go of Cliff’s hand.

“Then you better come back.” Cliff said and flagged a porter over and gestured to Rick’s luggage, “Can you see that these get to the Pan Am flight to Berlin?”

“Yes sir.” The porter grabbed Rick’s bags and nodded at them both with a smile, Cliff got his hand free from Rick’s and dug out a dollar from his billfold and handed it to the porter.

Rick parted his mouth to speak but before he could say anything Cliff spoke.

“Gotta move the car, people get real ornery about not being able to pull over.” Cliff put on his aviator sunglasses and got in his car, he pulled into traffic and zipped away without looking back.

Rick stood there with the scent of car fumes rolling up at him off the hot summer pavement, he rubbed his nose and turned to the porter, “Hey porter, where’s the bar?” Rick walked into the airport with a heavy heart and an aching belly.

**A Day Early and a Dime Short**

**Part 3**

**July 9, 1970**

Cliff popped the last bite of his dinner in his mouth when the phone rang. He snorted out of frustration and chewed faster as he stood up and walked over to the phone, checking the time on his watch and realized he needed to leave in ten minutes if he wanted to be at the set on time.

“Hello?” Cliff said and quickly swallowed the last of his food.

“Hey Cliff! Goddamned, it’s good to hear your voice. I’m at the airport, come and get me!”

Cliff swallowed, and cleared his throat. “You said you were landing tomorrow. I can’t come get you, I’m working.”

“You got a gig? Where’r you shooting at?”

“Willow Springs.” Cliff said.

“W-where’s that?”

Rick sounded a little frantic to Cliff’s ear. “Rosamund, it’s out past Lancaster. Rick, if you’d just called me and let me know.” Hearing Rick’s voice made Cliff realized how much he’d missed him, for a second he was tempted to let the job slide, but he shook off that idea quickly, it was hard enough to find work these days without getting a reputation as a flake. “I can’t pick you up.”

“Oh. Okay, no-no problemo amigo. I’ll manage, I can get a cab or something, just would have been nice, you know, to see you. I’m not used to traveling without you, it’s like I’m missing a limb or something.”

“You mean a personal porter?” Cliff asked jokingly.

“No, no, maybe not a limb, my guts just felt wrong… the whole time.” Rick mumbled.

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.” Cliff said after a long pause.

“Wait a sec, what? Are you doing an all night shoot?” Rick looked out the windows of the airport at the dusk colored sky.

“Sure am.” Rick said looking at his watch.

“What kind of film is it?” Rick asked.

“Oh it’s about the Le Mans, it’s McQueen’s project, he just got back from France. He was over filming there in June, he had a car competing for a while, I didn’t catch all the details.”

“So he’s making a film about racing cars? It’s been done.” Rick grumbled.

“Yeah.” Cliff agreed and had to bite his tongue, to keep from asking Rick how many Westerns he thought had _been done_ , “Um, any how there was a wreck one night on the tracks, kind of a big deal, someone died, a track marshal, I think. We’re going to recreate it, sans actual collision of course.”

“In Rosamund?” Rick pulled out a brochure from his jacket pocket, “What’s the name of the place again?”

It’s Willow Springs, the motorsports park.”

“Well, what about the uh,” Rick pulled out a pen and scribbled the name down.

“Hey Rick, I gotta run. Can’t be late, this is one night of work and it’s good money. I’ll see you in the morning.” Cliff hung up the phone. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be on time, but he was going to do his damnedest.

“Dammint.” Rick muttered, he dug in his pocket for another dime but only game up with a nickel, three pennies and lint.

**Willow Springs**

**Part 4**

In no time at all Cliff was barreling down the highway, weaving through traffic. He was glad Rick was home, but also annoyed he hadn’t let him know he was flying in a day early.

Cliff had flipped through Variety Magazine, Avant-Scène Cinéma, Billboard, Anthologie du Cinéma, and The Hollywood Reporter, looking for articles on the Film Festival in Berlin while Rick had been away. The man that ran the newsstand had given Cliff a sour look for loitering for for too long. Not only had Cliff found an article, he’d also found a photo Rick with Francesca hanging on his arm. The caption Written beneath the photo read:

_July 1st, 1970 The handsome film & television star Rick Dalton and his beautiful wife Francesca Capucci bring Hollywood Glamour and the spicy flavor of the Spaghetti Western to the red carpet at the The 20th annual Berlin International Film Festival. Capucci has a supporting role in Il Conformista!_

Cliff had stared at press photo for so long he’d memorized the caption. Rick looked handsome in the picture, of course he did, Cliff thought, because Rick always did, even when he’d pulled an all nighter of heavy drinking Rick managed to look alluring the next morning, despite being a touch careworn and hungover. Him and Francesca were an attractive pair, Cliff begrudgingly admitted to himself.

The photograph had felt like a blow to Cliff. Here he was alone in Rick’s house, surrounded by Rick’s things. The scent of Rick’s cologne still clinging to the pillows, reminding Cliff of Rick’s absence every time he rolled over in bed. At night half asleep Cliff would extend and arm, his fingers seeking the familiar warmth of his friend turned lover, only to find cool sheets and empty space. They’d worked and played together for nearly a decade and been inseparable, and now Cliff was off cavorting in Berlin of all places, with the woman that had come between them in the summer of ’69. Francesca was still able to displace Cliff as easily as waving a ticket to a red carpet event under Rick’s nose, and that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The sun had just dipped down beneath the horizon when Cliffdrove onto the grounds of the Willow Springs International Motorsports Park. He headed over to where the film crew was set up. Cliff parked and jogged over taking it all in. He slowed his steps as he walked past a Porsche 908 rigged with cameras. He made a low whistle and clicked his tongue in admiration. He ran his hand across the roof of the car, it reminded him of a shark, sleek and dangerous. Rick recognized McQueen from behind, he wasn’t very tall, but he had the kind of posture that made him look formidable.

“Hey Steve!” Cliff called.

Steve McQueen turned around and smiled broadly, he extended a hand and Cliff clasped it in his own and gave him a firm handshake.

“Right on time!” McQueen pulled Cliff into a single armed embrace and slapped his back heartily.

“Of course.” Cliff said smiling, feeling a rush of excitement at being on a set again, and especially giddy knowing he was about to get behind the wheel of a Porsche 917 Gulf.

“Thanks for coming in. Linge’s having passport trouble, and you were the first person I thought of when I realized there was no way he was going to get all that red tape smoothed out.” Steve smiled, he took out a crumpled pack of Camel cigarettes and offered one to Cliff.

Cliff took it and set it in his lips, the spark and flame of Steve’s lighter danced before Cliff’s eyes, Cliff leaned in and lit his cigarette.

“What’s the fastest you’ve driven?” Steve asked in a casual tone.

“Unofficially I raced a 250 GTO, back around ’63 at Darlington Raceway, I was clocked at 151 miles per hour.” Cliff smiled when he saw Steve pause before taking a drag on his cigarette.

“What are doing taking pratfalls for cowboys if you can handle a car like that?” Steve shook his head, “You any good at reading pace-notes?”

“Ha, what you looking for a co-driver?” Cliff raised his eyebrows waiting for Steve’s reply.

Steve shrugged and then winked at Cliff.

A dark haired man with a push-broom mustache walked up to the two of them with a rather anxious expression on his face.

“Hey Don, this is Cliff Booth, he’ll be driving in place of Herbert, so help him suit up, will you.”

“I’m the prop-master.” Don sounded irritated.

“Of course, of course,” Steve waved his hand dismissively, “ Cliff this is Don Nunley, he’s our prop-master, I always mix him up with wardrobe on account of he’s just as fussy as the people costume department.”

“Nice to meet you Cliff. I’ve got a watch here for you, and we’re going to make sure we get the right fit helmet on you.” Don handed a square-faced wristwatch to Cliff and gestured that he should follow.

“Hey Cliff, what were you doing down at Darlington anyways?”

“Just visiting some family.” Cliff said.

“Huh. You don’t sound like you’re from South Carolina.” Steve nodded, “You’re a man of mystery Cliff, but if you can handle a car like that I’m glad to have you.”

Cliff didn’t bother to tell Steve he wasn’t from South Carolina, he just turned and patted Don on the shoulder, “Let’s get the show on the road.”

“Right this way,” Don pointed to a couple trailers where bustling crew members were buzzing about.

“Booth, why does your name sound so familiar?” Don asked as they walked into a trailer.

“Oh, I’ve been doing stunt work for years.” Cliff wondered if that was all going to boil down to the incident with Bruce Lee, or the rumors about Billie. “So how long have been working with McQueen?” Cliff asked trying to shift focus away from himself.

“Honestly this is my first film with him, and my first one around cars, what size shoe do you wear?”

“Eleven and a half or a twelve will do.” Cliff watched Don grab a racing suit, and a pair of racing boots, gloves and what looked like white long-johns, “There you go, oh and put that watch on your right wrist.”

“Thanks.” Cliff said, dreading being wrapped up in so many layers. It was a warm evening and he was going to be sweating up a storm trussed up in the fire suit, knowing that a balaclava and helmet would complete his uniform just made him groan inwardly.

“You can get ready in the trailer just to the left of this one, oh and don’t forget this.” Don added a helmet to rest of the gear in his arms, “When you’re done just head on over there,” Don pointed “You’ll be driving the blue Porsche 917, with a twenty on it.”

“Can’t wait!” Cliff said with boyish unbridled enthusiasm.

Don smiled at him and paused, “Hey, Cliff, Steve might really push you when you’re out there on the track,” Don lowered his voice and scrubbed his dark mustache thoughtfully with his finger tips before going on, “He’s a really cool guy and all, but he’s a bit single minded, just um, don’t let him uh, bully you into doing something that’s too risky.”

Cliff nodded, “I appreciate it Don,”

“Just don’t tell him I said that, or anyone, I like my job.” Don said quickly.

“My lips are sealed.” Cliff threw him a little salute.

Cliff went into the trailer that was the designated dressing room. He flicked on the lights and started stripping. Once he was down to his socks and boxers he paused before the mirror and gave himself a quick assessment, not bad. He shrugged and then winked at his mirror image before stepping into the white long johns and then putting on the race suit over that. He read some of the patches in the mirror, the red embroidered writing read Chronograph Heuer and he remembered to put the wristwatch on his right wrist. He shook his head, the detail was pointless, it was going to be covered by his glove, he smiled looking at the watch and thought he might just take it home to Rick as a souvenir, he wondered briefly if Rick had brought him anything back from the film festival, but highly doubted it.

The track lights were glowing and a warm breeze was cutting across the track when Cliff walked to where the Porsche was parked. It was going to be a long hot night. Cliff yanked up the zipper and to the collar top, he decided to put off donning the balaclava, gloves and helmet as long as he could.

“Hey Cliff nice to meet you, I”m Lee, Lee Katzin, I’m directing.” Lee said in a softly nasal voice and a warm smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Cliff shook Lee’s hand, wondering what happened to John Sturges, the director that everyone had been talking about.

“So this is going to go real simple, we’re going to have you go around the tracks, Steve tells me you can handle a car going over a hundred fifty so by your third round we want you to get up around there, but not over it okay? We’ve got a 908 rigged with cameras that’s going to be trailing you, when you get to here,” Lee pointed at the track, “ just past that yellow post you’re going to veer left right left and then we want you to drop your speed down to something like sixty and turn around on the center track,” Lee looked at Cliff expectantly.

“How many times?” Cliff asked thoughtfully.

“what do you mean how many times? We need to get this in less than four takes, we’re over budget and gas ain’t cheap.”

“You want it on the first take then that’s when it’s happening.” Cliff said casually.

“I want it on the first take.” Lee smiled and patted Cliff’s shoulder.

“Alright boss, I’ll just wait for my cue then.” Cliff nodded and walked over to the star of the show, the blue Gulf-Porsche 917K with a bold orange stripe down the center and #20 on the hood and doors.

Cliff let out a low whistle admiring the car. He slipped on his balaclava and his helmet. He smiled to himself, as he opened the door and settled into the seat. He felt like he was about to pilot a space ship, the steering wheel was on the right side and just that alone was enough to make him grin. “I wish I could take you home.”

Cliff squeezed the steering wheel, eager to get the motor running but waited for his cue. He saw a couple men in pit-crew suits headed his way. Cliff’s heart raced with excitement he smiled brightly behind balaclava and gave a thumbs up to McQueen who was standing next to the director.

**Lights, Camera, Action!**

**Part 5**

When the taxi drove onto the Willow Springs International Motorsports Park’s grounds, Rick could hear the sounds of engines whirring, when he rolled down his window he could smell the spent fuel and taste the dust in the air. The cars sounded like two giant wasps furiously flying in circles. The closer Rick got to the track the harder his heart was beating. He got out of the cab and waited impatiently while the driver got his bags out of the trunk. Rick didn’t even really hear what the fare was, he just handed the cabbie two fifty dollar bills and collected his luggage.

“You owe me another thirty four dollars and sixty eight cents mister, and that’s not even counting tip.” The Cabbie groused.

“Next time I think I’ll walk,” Rick retorted and handed the guy a third fifty dollar bill, “Keep the change.” Rick started dragging his luggage in the direction of the crew, they were set up near the lip of the track. The ground hummed silently beneath his feet when a blue blur of a car flew by on the tracks followed by another white car, both engines buzzing, the fumes made Rick’s sinuses hurt.

The cabbie called after him but Rick just kept walking, putting his long legs to work. Rick’s heart was thrumming at such a pace he could feel his blood racing through his veins, he told himself he had no reason to be so keyed up, he was just jet lagged, nothing a stiff drink wouldn’t fix, the thought of sitting across from Cliff when they got home, with a Whiskey Sour for himselfand a Bloody Mary for Cliff; and then they’d both be right as rain. Rick smiled at the thought of that, he’d missed Cliff desperately. The drive from the airport to Rosamond had taken what felt like the whole night, and on more than one occasion Rick had wondered if by the time he got there Cliff would already be on his way home.

Rick spotted a couple of men seated in tall director’s chairs, one seat had the name McQueen on the back of it, the other said Katzin.

“What the hell is he doing out there?” Steve MeQueen jumped out of his chair and moved towards the edge of the track, he went right up to the fence. Rick looked around confused, he turned his gaze to where the two cars were whipping around the track.

“Is something wrong?” Rick abandoned his luggage and jogged over to Steve.

Steve glanced at him and did a double take, “Rick, what’er you doing here?”

“Is something happening out there?” Rick squinted at the racing cars, they were moving so fast in the near dark that he had no idea what it was McQueen could have possibly noticed.

“The camera car, the white Porsche,” Steve explained impatiently, “ He’s taking the turns all wrong, he’s not breaking when he needs to, a child could do better!”

“Cliff’s no amateur!” Rick snapped, his fists clenched at his sides.

“No, not Cliff, he’s in the lead car, he’s driving the 917,” He glanced at Rick and saw that the numbers meant nothing to him, “The blue one.”

  
“Why didn’t you just say number 20?” Rick shook his head.

“Cliff’s doing great, he could compete professionally, it’s Marvin, the guy in the,” He paused, “the white one rigged with cameras.” Steve whistled loudly and waved at the man that had been sitting beside him, “Someone get on the radio, tell Ed we’re done! Now!”

“Is he looking a little erratic out there?” Lee Katzin looked through a pair of binoculars, and put a walkie-talkie to his mouth, “Hey Ed, we need to wrap. You flag ‘em, it’s time to stop. Over.”

“I thought we were going till four, over.” Ed’s voice crackled through the radio.

Steve swiped the walkie talkie from Lee’s hand, “Get that red flag waving you moron!”

“Copy that, over.” “Ed’s static riddled voice replied.

Rick squinted watching the two cars flying towards the turn, a man stuck a bright red flag through the fence and waved it back and forth as they zipped past it in a blink. Rick didn’t think there was anyway they could have even seen it they were traveling so fast.

Cliff adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. His gloved hands felt a little stiff on the wheel. He came up on the turn and kept it nice and smooth His heart was racing, but his breathing was regular and deep, a droplet of sweat stung his eye but he blinked it away, keeping both hands on the wheel. His whole being was vibrating with the power of the engine.Out of the corner of his eye he saw a red flag unfurl from the side of the fence, he couldn’t believe they already wanted him off the track, it felt like he’d only just started. He’d have been less surprised by a yellow flag. He wondered what had gone wrong, if maybe it was something with the camera rig on the other car. Cliff started dropping his speed. He couldn’t see what was happening on the track behind him. Suddenly he had a bad feeling, like someone had just walked over his grave.

Rick ran up the tiered wooden benches trying to get a better view of what was happening, the track wasn’t fully lit, there were only a few lights set up by the crew dotting the racecourse. Rick squinted as he saw Cliff’s car slowing down incrementally which meant he’d seen the signal flag.

Rick sighed, his heart swelled at the thought that soon he’d be able to see Cliff in person, wrap his arms around him, and kiss him as soon as they were alone together. The overpriced cab ride, the jet lag, all of it was worth it because in a matter of minutes he’d have Cliff at his side. Cliff was Rick’s rock, his lighting rod in the stormy existence of life, he kept him grounded and sane. Rick could withstand just about anything as long as Cliff was there.

Rick watched the white car that had been two or three car lengths behind Cliff’s suddenly close the gap, and ram into the passenger side rear. Cliff’s car had been hit with such force that it was sent spinning across the track, it happened so fast Rick didn’t believe what he was seeing. Some how Cliff had gotten control of his car but then the camera car was now stopped ahead on the track, turned sideways blocking the way.

Rick jumped down the benches and started running towards Cliff’s car. He watched a red and white car that looked like a private ambulance pull on to the track followed by a snub-nosed looking firetruck, it struck him as darkly comical, how inadequate and slow everything was moving. Rick felt like a man watching dominos tipping over one after the other with no power or recourse. Cliff’s in an effort to avoid the white camera car swerved along a barrier wall on the inside of the track, covered hay bales burst and the brick wall behind them sheared off the side of the blue and orange Porsche. The force of the impact sent Cliff’s car clear across the other side of the track, the nose of the car clipped the camera car and sent it spinning round and round, like bumper cars, both of the vehicles sprung away from one another shedding body parts like exoskeletons. One of the back tires on Cliff’s car tipped out sideways, and sparks flew out from beneath the car, the sound of metal screeching sounded like the vehicle was crying out for mercy. Finally Cliff’s car was still.

Rick was still running, running harder than he had in years, his teeth were jarring in his mouth with each footfall, his chest was tight, and his lungs were burning. He heard the buzzing of motorcycle behind himself and he looked back, he saw McQueen, who waved at him.

“C’mon, get on.” Steve said as he slowed down to a stop.

Rick didn’t hesitate, he jumped on the back and McQueen got them to the crash sight in no time. Two paramedics were talking to the man that had been driving the white camera car, and another pair of men in red and white jumpsuits were talking to Cliff through the window. Rick launched himself off the back of Steve’s bike and jogged towards the battered blue Porsche.

Cliff was dizzy, his neck ached, and his chest felt like a horse had just kicked in it. He saw the red flashing emergency lights, and he struggled to get out of the harness that had him strapped in. Two EMTs were talking to him but he wasn’t sure what the hell they were saying. One of them tried to open his door, but he was struggling. Cliff wondered if it was jammed. It was like a switch had been flipped, his chest went tight, his breath started coming short, he needed out and need out now. He ripped off his gloves in a frenzy, he needed air! His hands felt numb as he fumbled to get his helmet off. He couldn’t quite get a grip on the strap, out of the corner of his eye he saw a man shove the EMTs clear of the door. Rick grabbed the door and yanked it open, he reached in with one hand and grabbed Cliff out of the driver’s seat.

“Get it off me! Get it off!” Cliff shouted struggling with his helmet.

Rick obliged him and pulled off the helmet and removed Cliff’s balaclava too. Cliff took several gulps of air, he looked at Rick’s bright worried eyes and wondered how the hell he’d gotten there.

“Cliff!” Rick wrapped his arms around him.

Cliff felt a flash of panic at being held, being constricted, but it vanished when he rested his cheek on Rick’s shoulder.

“We need to get him on the stretcher.” The shorter of the two EMTs insisted.

“C’mon Cliff, let’s get you looked at.” Steve rested a hand gently on Cliff’s arm.

“He’s right,” Rick added.

Cliff straightened up and tried to think of something clever to say, but helmet or no his head felt scrambled and the pain was already catching up with him, his right knee buckled and he nearly fell. Rick, Steve and the two EMTs loaded him onto a stretcher. Before the EMTs shoved Cliff into the ambulance he felt Rick squeeze his hand. Cliff was about to respond when he felt a sting in his shoulder.

“This is going to help you with the pain.” The EMT said assuringly.

“I’d rather have a stiff drink.” Cliff grumbled.

He heard the sound of the Ambulance doors shutting and he was whisked away before he could even say anything meaningful to Rick, like how much he’d missed him, or to make sure Brandy got her breakfast.

**Hurricane Billie**

**Part 6**

Rick looked away as a nurse gave Cliff an injection. Cliff slept right through it, but Rick couldn’t stand the sight of needles puncturing skin, something about made him feel nauseous. He’d never been particularly comfortable around the sight of blood, and since his living room had been painted with the stuff nearly a year ago, it made him especially queasy now. A hospital was the last place he wanted to be, but Cliff was there and Rick wasn’t going to leave his side ever again.

“It’s a Goddamned catch 22.” Rick muttered, he looked down at the book in his hands of the same title. Joseph Heller’s signature was scrawled across the title page beneath a brief inscription;

_To Mr Rick Dalton, With sincere good wishes and hope that you enjoy, Joseph Heller._

It had been a Christmas gift from Cliff back in 1963, and for the first time, Rick had read it on the airplane to and from Berlin, and every night he was away. The book had helped keep his mind off the fact that he was hundreds of miles from the man he loved and at the same time made him yearn for him with every turn of the page.

Cliff had been enlisted and active during World War II, but he never spoke about it. All Rick new was that he’d been in the army. When he’d asked Cliff when he’d gotten the eagle tattoo over his heart Cliff had said the day before he’d shipped out, and when Rick asked about the Indian on his left bicep Cliff said he got it on his first day back on the main land, adding he’d gotten all his scars in between with a melancholic smile.

Rick ran his thumb along the edges of the pages of his now careworn copy of Catch 22, wishing he could talk to Cliff about the story. Staring at the book Rick felt kind of foolish. Cliff was out cold, and no doubt medicated to the gils with pain pills. Cliff had a cast on his right leg starting just above his knee and stopping short of his toes, both his hands were wrapped, the right one had the addition of a splint and they’d put a collar around his neck.

Cliff opened his eyes a for a moment thought he was home because he heard the soft sound of Rick snoring. Cliff drew a breath and tasted the antiseptic scent of a hospital. His eyes flew open and he frowned, as he became more and more lucid. He had a collar on, keeping his neck very hot and very straight. His right leg was casted and both his wrists were wrapped, he looked down and saw that he’d done more damage to his right wrist than the left, it was splinted and had a bandage just below the elbow. He scratched at the gauze covered wound only to flinch in pain, he could feel the stitches beneath the fabric.

Cliff couldn’t turn his head to look at Rick, but he peered at him catching him in his peripheral vision.

“Hey.” Cliff said, his voice came out rasping like snapping twigs.

“Rick.” Cliff said a little louder.

Rick snored on in response.

“Feels like someone yanked my spine outta my asshole.” Rick complained to his sleeping partner.

It was just as the words had left his mouth that the curtain that surrounded his bed was pulled back.

Cliff blinked rapidly and hoped he was having a concussion induced hallucination.

“Now you’ve done it.” Billie Booth, his wife, said flatly.

Rick startled awake.

“How’re you feeling, you look like hell.” Billie sat on the side of Cliff’s bed and shook her head.

“Who are you?” Rick sat up, catching his book before it slid off his lap.

“Who am I?” Billie laughed, she shook her head of curls and, “Who am I?” She pointed at herself then looked at Cliff, “Jesus Cliff, your buddy here doesn’t know who I am. How about an introduction? No, don’t bother I can speak for myself.”

“Hi, I’m Billie, Billie Booth, this guys wife.” Billie tilted her head towards Cliff and stuck out her hand.

Rick took her hand and side-eyed Cliff in a flash and then shook her hand, “Oh, of course, yeah. Nice to meet you. I’m Rick.” Rick said, he added a smile but it felt like he was just gritting his teeth. “I didn’t know and uh, Cliff…”

“Oh, yeah, we’re separated. Have been for years, but you know not, the big ‘D’ for divorced. Divorces are so expensive you know? And the lawyers and court dates and all that bullshit, I mean it’s not like I’m planning on getting hitched again, so why bother? I’m his ball and chain, ain’t that right Cliff?” Billie patted Cliff’s uninjured leg. “So I’ve gotta check on him when the hospital calls, it’s like my responsibility, ain’t that right sugar? You know, he’d do the same, wouldn’t you Cliff? You know I didn’t even realize you kept my number on you, that’s kind of an old fashioned thing to do. Boys always need a woman to come rescue them.” Billie smiled, her eyes were bright blue and strangely feline in Rick’s opinion, and rather unsettling.

“So you crashed on a racecourse, doing a job, huh?” Billie poked Cliff in the shoulder playfully.

Cliff sighed, parted his lips and then thought better of it and shut his mouth.

“He’s not to blame for it.” Rick said,“I was there, there was another car on the track, it had a camera rig on it. The driver blacked out and lost control. Something about heatstroke, I didn’t get the full story, but I saw it.” Rick shook his head,“A lesser man would have faired far worse.”

“No kidding,” Billie tossed her wild blonde curls over her shoulder and tapped the cast on Cliff’s leg with a manicured nail, “Sounds like you better sue, if you know what’s good for you, and me too, heck, I could always use a little extra cash. Don’t get me wrong, the hotel’s doing real good. But if there’s some producers running around with fat bill folds, I mean, they’re insured for this kind of thing, right?”

Cliff raised his eyebrows but said nothing, he glanced at Billie and then up at the ceiling.

“I’m sure they’ll foot the medical bills.” Rick said, not sure in the least.

“They better. I can’t have them taking advantage of this old dog.” Billie dug in her purse, “I’ve got some Valium in here, are you feeling panicky yet? I know you hate hospitals,” Billie turned looking at Rick, “Sometimes I think it’s you know,” She lowered her voice into a stage whisper, “Shellshock, from being in the war.”

“He’s already pretty loaded up, I don’t think he should take anything else.” Rick said wishing a doctor or nurse would come in.

“Is that right Cliff? You don’t look too stressed, I wonder if they’re giving you morphine, you know if you get a prescription you better share with your old lady!” Billie released a raucous laugh, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and put one in her lips.

“Can’t smoke in here.” Rick said quickly.

“Oh relax, I’m gonna go outside.” Billie smiled, and removed the cigarette from her lips, “I know you, you’re the cowboy! And you did those Italian flicks too, right, right.” She nodded. “You’re a lot taller in person, and you know, more filled out too.” She winked at Cliff and then looked back at Rick giving him an appraising once over. “When are they gonna to let you out of here? Huh?” Billie turned her attention back to Cliff. “I drove all the way out here from Palm Springs to collect you, but I don’t want to get a hotel out here in Kern County, ugh, I mean what a shit hole. It’s almost a three hour drive, so I’m hoping we can spring you by lunchtime. I mean, let’s be honest.” She waved her hands, her bangles clanking as she gestured out the window, “it’s no Palm Springs.”

“He’s coming back to Hollywood.” Rick said mustering as much authority as he could.

“Hollywood? What’re you going to do prop him up like a dummy so he can take pratfalls for your pictures?” Billie put her hands on her hips.

“Billie.” Cliff said, “I’m staying with Cliff.”

“Oh, you got so rich you moved from behind the drive-in out to Hollywood?”

“Well it’s not my house.” Cliff soldiered on, “I’m sorry the hospital called you, I didn’t ask them to. I’m gonna be fine. Just a little bruised, I’ll be on my feet in no time.”

“And who’s going to take care of you between being knocked on your ass and up on your feet, you, this guy?” Billie asked, she gestured at Rick, “I don’t think Mr Hollywood here is gonna play nursemaid to you. Don’t be so proud, just come with me back to the ranch, I’ll play nice. You can bring your hell hound, and no funny business coming from me, unless you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” She wiggled her shoulders and winked at Cliff suggestively, “Then it won’t be on my head, but you know it’s been a while. Rick knows what I’m saying right?”

Rick felt his face turn several shades, wondering what exactly Cliff had told her if anything about their relationship.

“Men have appetites, and you know, call me a feminist but women do too.” Billie laughed looking at Rick, “Oh, I think I’ve embarrassed your friend Cliff! I’m not some little Doris Day type, I doubt your a Dudley Do-right yourself, wow, you have just, the look you know!Don’t be jealous Cliff, not that you’ve never been the type to be jealous, it’s like you didn’t know what you had the whole time we were together. Huh…I’m absolutely dying for a smoke, I’ll be back boys, don’t go anywhere!”

Rick stared as the door swung shut in the wake of Billie.

“That’s Billie?” Rick blurted.

“Yep.” Cliff replied and wondered if there was anyway he could get more morphine.

“I thought she was dead!” Rick exclaimed.

“What? I never told you my wife was dead.” Cliff looked at Rick like he was nuts.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re still married and you wife isn’t dead?” Rick asked and then sat down and then stood up and paced next to Cliff’s bed.

“Now you hold on a sec,” Cliff shifted attempting to sit up straight and failed, “You think I’d kill my own wife? You’re telling me you believed all those cockamamie rumors and you still wanted me around?”

“What? Well, yeah, and in my defense I’ve never seen her and you never talk about her, you didn’t live with her, wha-what was I supposed to think?”

“You weren’t supposed to think I’d murdered her.” Cliff gave up on attempting to sit up and laid back, he grimaced feeling pain spike up his spine.

“I mean if any woman I’ve ever met, I, I, well she’s, I’d be awfully tempted.” Rick rambled.

“That’s my wife.” Cliff said flatly.

  
“I’m sorry that was,” Rick started to apologize.

“We were in love once,” Cliff sighed.

“You don-don’t still, you’re not carrying a torch, are you?” Rick stammered.

Cliff tried to turn his head but his neck-brace wouldn’t allow it. ”No. You’re still married too, and you just ran off to Europe to see Francesca, I didn’even know if you were coming back.”

“Of course I came back.” Rick said softly.

“I know.” Cliff muttered, “Forget it, my head’s all,” Rick puffed out a breath frustratedly, “Just get me out of here, I’ll tell Billie I’m not going to Palm Springs with her.”

“You’re not?” Rick asked.

“Christ no.” Cliff closed his eyes, “Go on, go to the desk, check me outta this place. I’ll talk to Billie when she comes back.”

“Okay, we’ll just get you set up at home.” Rick nodded, and hoped he didn’t run into Billie at the front desk, or the hallway, or ever again.

**The King of Cool**

**Part 7**

When the car rocked to a halt Cliff startled awake, he’d been dreaming he was back on the track, he felt Rick’s hand rest on his uninjured knee and gently squeeze.

“We’re here,” Rick said as he slid out of the back seat of the cab.

Cliff shook his head and he instantly regretted shaking his head feeling a sharp pain in his neck. He glanced over grimacing at the cab driver who opened his door. Cliff’s mind felt thick with cobwebs from sleep and pain killers.

“Here you go.” Rick handed the cabbie some cash and then extended his hand to help Cliff out of the car.

“I’ve got it.” Cliff waved Rick’s hand away impatiently.

“You’re going to need your crutches.” Rick said.

Cliff took the crutches impatiently and hoisted himself up, twitching away his elbow when he felt Rick’s hand rest underneath it as if to steer him.

“C’mon, Cliff, I’m just trying to help you.” Rick sighed.

“I can manage.” Cliff said making his way to the front door without looking back at Rick. He could barely use the crutches he was in so much pain, but he grimaced his way through it.

Rick rushed ahead and unlocked the front door, Brandy wiggled impatiently, she sniffed at the air, but minded her manners and didn’t bark or jump.

“Hey Brandy.” Cliff said as he lowered himself on the couch.

He touched the top of his good knee and Brandy rested her chin on it so he could pet her.

“Are you expecting Billie, or anyone?” Rick asked from the doorway. “There’s a strange car coming up the road.”

“No, Billie left for Palm Springs before I checked out, she’s not coming here.” Cliff said still stroking Brandy’s head. Rick had become about paranoid about who came and went on their private drive since the incident. Cliff could hear the sound of the engine, but didn’t recognize it as one of the neighbors.

“It’s Steve.” Rick said unhappily.

“McQueen?” Rick said.

“Yeah, he’s just parked.” Rick shut the door and walked over to the bar.

“So I”ll just get up and let him in then, shall I?” Cliff asked sarcastically.

“What? No, no. I”ll get the door.” Rick set down the bottle of tequila he’d just picked up and walked back to the front door he’d just shut.

There was a solid rapping of knuckles on the door. Rick opened the door and nodded at Steve McQueen.

“Hey, come on in. Can I get you a drink?” Rick stepped back making room for Steve to come in.

“That’d be great, I just drove all the way here from the hospital. I wanted to see how Cliff’s doing.” Steve was peeling off his gloves as he spoke.

Rick nodded at Cliff who was seated on the couch.

“Hey Steve.” Cliff said, he attempted to nod but flinched a bit.

“Do you want me to get your neck-brace?” Rick asked.

“No, that damned thing strangles me.” Cliff said.

Rick rolled his eyes and went behind the bar. He watched as Steve sat down on the edge of the coffee table facing Cliff, tucking his pretentious driving gloves in the inside pocket of his very expensive looking jacket.

“It’s good to see you.” Steve said.

“Likewise. Did everything wrap up okay down at the track? Did you get all the footage you need?”

“Yeah, we got everything we need. Cliff, I’m not here to talk about the film, I just wanted to get a look at you. Busted knee, huh?” Steve knocked lightly on Cliff’s cast and shook his head.

Rick walked over and handed them each a drinks, feeling like a waiter interrupting a private conversation. “That’s not all, he had to get stitches on his right arm where he got a gash, and he tore a ligament in his right hand, sprained his left wrist, got a concussion and whiplash and his back is killing him.” Rick said.

Steve shook his head looking at Cliff, “I’ve had all of those injuries too, just not all at once.”

“He wouldn’t have any of them if your driver hadn’t screwed up so bad.” Rick griped.

“It was an accident.” Cliff said impatiently, he drained his glass down to the ice cubes and held it out for Rick to take away.

Rick took the glass and walked back to the bar, feeling like he was being treated like the help, in his own home no less!

“Listen Cliff, you rest up and get better. I didn’t come here to stay, I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I’m sure you’re ready for some sleep.” Steve turned looking at Rick and then back to Cliff, “Are you staying here while you recuperate?”

“No. He lives here.” Rick said from behind the bar.

“I’d heard you guys were close.” Steve said the corner of his mouth lifted and he fixed Cliff with a sly expression.

“As thick as thieves.” Cliff said.

“I gotta get going, the boys are doing some editing. I want to see what they’re doing to my film.” Steve shook Cliff’s injured hand with care and then leaned over.

Rick watched from the bar and frowned, as Steve whispered something in Cliff’s ear. Cliff chuckled and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“I’ll see you real soon Cliff.” Steve said as he stood up straight.

“Good night Rick and thanks for the drink.” Steve walked over and shook Rick’s hand.

Rick held onto Steve’s hand watching him, “If Cliff gets one bill from that hospital in the mail I’m having it forwarded to your production company.”

“Rick.” Cliff said in a warning tone from the couch.

“He won’t, don’t worry, be cool. He’s going to be taken care of.” Steve said casually.

Rick released Steve’s hand and chewed the inside of his cheek watching him.

“See you boys later.” Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his jacket and put them on as he walked out the front door, the sunlight hit him just so, he was bathed in golden sunset rays as if an entire film crew was standing just out of view waiting for him to make his exit. Rick scoffed; there was no reason for that shrimp to have all the luck.

“What’s got in to you?” Cliff asked from the couch. Brandy was sitting on one hip next to him her chin rested on his knee.

“Me?” Rick asked.

“Yeah, you.” Cliff said, “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Well it wouldn’t be acting because I don’t.” Rick retorted.

“You can’t go busting the talent’s chops about my hospital bills. I’m a stuntman, if I don’t end up in a hospital now and again, nobody would need me.”

“He’s not just the talent on this, it’s his production company and while you were out cold in the hospital I was doing some reading and talking to Don Nunley, the prop-master.”

“Yeah we met.” Cliff said.

“Did you know that David Piper a real racer, lost a leg working on this production?! And the leading lady, Louise whatever her name is, McQueen nearly got her killed because he was too drunk to be driving, not to mention everyone knows he’s sleeping with her and he’s married.”

“Well we’re both married and sleeping together.” Cliff said dryly.

“Solar Productions, is _his_ film company. If you get one goddamned bill I will personally shove it down his goddamned throat.” Rick slammed his balled fist on the bar top.

“Uh huh.” Cliff said watching Rick, his expression unreadable. “Why do I get the feeling this isn’t about me and my injuries so much as it is about Steve McQueen making the picture he wants?”

“I don’t care what pictures he makes.”

“I know, but you care that you’re not making pictures and he is.” Cliff said.

Rick chewed his bottom lip, “That’s, that’s a low blow.” He grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the bar and stormed out of the house and into the backyard.

**Alone at Last**

**Part 8**

Cliff sat on the couch his fingers tapping lightly on Brandy’s thick skull. He’d hurt Rick, he had no doubt about that; he’d meant to, but succeeding hadn’t felt good at all. The pain in Cliff’s back was only tempered by the distraction of his very full bladder. He watched the last glow of daylight crawl down the wall and then vanish altogether and sat in the dark patting Brandy’s head.

“Now I know what you feel like when you’re trapped in the house and you need to take a leak.” Cliff said to Brandy gently patting her head. “Do you think he’s ever coming back in?”

Rick was sitting by the pool, drunk as a skunk and still sulking when Brandy trotted out and nosed his hand. He looked down at her through watery eyes and rubbed her head. “Brandy girl. I guess I should go inside huh?” Rick wobbled to his feet, standing up made his head spin.

Brandy trotted over to the door that was ajar, her tail whipping back and forth encouragingly.

“Why are you so happy, huh, what’s your secret?” Rick slurred.

Cliff watched Rick wander into the living room, he flicked on the lights and then covered his eyes. Brandy danced a circle around Rick and then went and sat next to Cliff.

“Brandy’s hungry and I gotta piss.” Cliff said.

“Jesus, what’re you doing sitting in the dark?”

Rick frowned, “I can’t really stand up and and I didn’t feel like crawling to the light switch.”

“Oh, right. Shit that’s right. Um, let’s see, feed Brandy, but you’ve gotta piss…’ Rick mumbled.

Cliff watched as Rick approached, his eyes at half mast. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I slept on the plane, a little,” Rick slurred, “Well, I flew in, then got to the track,” Rick leaned over and then set one knee on the couch, “Saw the accident, my god my heart’s never raced like that, I’m surprised I didn’t keel over right then and there.” Rick scooped on arm under Cliff’s knees, and slid the other behind Cliff’s back.

“You’re not going to pick me up.” Cliff warned.

Rick stood up with Cliff in his arms. “Then you were at the hospital, getting your X-rays and your stitches, and your bones set, I slept in the chair..”

“Rick your back.” Cliff threw one arm around Rick’s neck worried he was about to be dropped on the coffee table.

“S’fine. Then you were sleeping, you slept a lot, and then Mrs Billie Booth blew in, that woman scares me, it’s almost like you married your arch-nemesis or something,” Rick gently cradled Cliff closer to his chest,“Have you lost weight?”

“I don’t know.” Cliff said, still surprised that Rick was managing to carry him from the living room to the bathroom that was adjacent to their bedroom.

“I mean, I wouldn’t know how much you weigh, doesn’t matter, you just feel a little thinner in my arms.”

“Rick I need to take a leak.” Cliff said. Cliff guessed that Rick was right about the weight loss, because as soon as Rick has gotten on that damn flight to Berlin, he’d lost his appetite and hadn’t been able to choke down an entire meal since.

“Alright here we go.” Rick gently set Cliff on his feet before the toilet, he even leaned over and flipped up the seat, while keeping an arm around Cliff’s waist to keep him steady.

Cliff unzipped his now destroyed jeans, (one of the legs had been cut off to accommodate his cast) and let loose. He’d needed to pee for hours and his aching bladder gratefully emptied. All the pain killers had him feeling something like altitude sickness combined with a champagne buzz, he leaned back against Rick’s chest and the heat from Rick’s body was soothing against his back. Before Cliff new it he was done pissing and just leaning back against Rick, one hand holding his cock, his eyes nearly shut.

“You’re gonna fall asleep standing up like horse.” Rick said softly, his booze scented breath tickled Cliff’s nose and his stubbled cheek gently brushed against Cliff’s, “I missed you,” Rick sighed and kissed Cliff’s cheek and temple.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have left.” Cliff said.

Rick sighed in response and rested his chin on Cliff’s shoulder. “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, you’ll know when I’m mad.” Cliff said softly, as he zipped up his jeans.

Rick steered Cliff to the bed and brought him his bottle of pain pills and a glass of water.

Cliff took his pills and laid back in the bed. He watched Rick dig through the drawers where Cliff kept his clothes.

“You want to sleep in these?” Rick held up a pair of boxers and t-shirt, he was still drunk and swaying.

Cliff glanced over at the Rick and frowned, “I”m fine, go to sleep.”

“Alright.” Rick nodded and put the clothes away.

Rick wondered if Cliff wasn’t mad, then what the hell was he? Just plain unhappy? That made Rick feel worse than before. Rick wandered into the shower, and then remember to strip before turning on the water. He was too drunk to be upright but he was hoping the hot spray would help him sober up, after a few minutes he felt like he was likely to fall asleep than gain any kind of clarity. “You gotta get this right Rick Dalton.” He said to himself. Rick had to make sure Cliff was happy, or at least not so unhappy with him. “Billie Booth is alive? Worst news I’ve had all year.” Rick muttered as he stepped out of the shower. He toweled off and decided to hire a nurse, it would be the first thing he did in the morning. He slipped on some pajama pants and crawled onto his side of the bed. Cliff’s breathing was deep and even.

Rick wanted to reach over and pull Cliff into his arms, to kiss him and touch him everywhere that didn’t hurt; it was with those thoughts that Rick slipped into a deep drunken sleep.

************

Rick awoke when he heard a heavy thud. He sat up on the bed and squinted at the bright midmorning light. He looked across the bed and saw that Cliff was gone.

“Cliff?” Rick mumbled as he scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

“I’m right here.” Cliff grumbled.

Rick crawled across the bed and peered over the edge and saw Cliff laying on the floor.

“Will you get my pills?”

“Yes, of course. Right after I get you off the floor.” Rick scrambled to his feet and lifted Cliff off the floor and sat him on the bed. Cliff was pale looking and he had a light sheen of sweat on his brow.

“You just lay back.” Rick whispered as he laid Cliff back on the bed. “I’ll get your pills, and make you something to eat.”

Cliff blinked, it was hard to focus on anything beyond the pain he was in, but the thought of Rick cooking struck fear in his heart. “Just get the pills and make me a Bloody Mary, a strong one.”

“I’m going to,” Rick said as he grabbed his red kimono and threw it on, “but you’re going to need food too.”

Cliff scowled in response. Rick cocked an eyebrow, he’d never known Cliff to be so irritable and demanding. Rick grabbed the vodka from the freezer and grabbed a stalk of celery, and a can of tomato juice out of the refrigerator.

“This isn’t a cocktail it’s a goddamned salad.” Rick griped. He cut a lemon and a lime, and popped open a jar of green olives. Then remembered he needed to grab the horse radish out of the refrigerator, he turned and nearly walked right into Brandy who was looking at him with a plaintive expression. “I suppose you want some breakfast, huh?”Brandy licked her chops and continued to stare at him. “Alright, alright.” Rick nudged her with his foot and she got up and went and sat next to her bowl. “Now listen here,” Rick said pointing the jar of horseradish at her, “If I don’t get your father all set up he’s likely to hobble out of bed and fall over, so you’re just going to have to wait.”

Rick maneuvered around Brandy and gathered all the ingredients and made Cliff his Bloody Mary. He stepped over Brandy who watched him with a rather sullen expression as he grabbed Cliff’s pill bottle off the coffee table and then hustled down the hallway to the bedroom. Cliff was looking pale and miserable, he was laying prone and breathing hard.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable on your back?” Rick set down the cocktail and the pill bottle and rested a hand on Cliff’s back.

Cliff’s only response was to grunt. Rick took that to be agreement and rolled Cliff over on his side. “There you go, I’ll just fix your pillows.” Rick grabbed the pillows from his side of the bed and combined them with Cliff’s and propped him up.

“Pills.” Cliff commanded.

Rick nodded and grabbed the bottle and dumped out a pair of pills and handed them to Cliff. Cliff immediately popped them in his mouth and took the Bloody Mary from the bedside table and turned it up drinking the whole thing down in four long swallows. Rick went to take the empty glass from Cliff’s hand but he pulled it back and removed the celery stalk with his teeth.

“Did you feed Brandy?” Cliff asked before taking a crunching bite of the damp celery.

“I was just about to.” Rick said, lingering waiting for Cliff to at least thank him for the Bloody Mary he’d made him.

“She needs to eat.” Cliff rested his eyes and leaned his head back chewing his celery.

Feeling dismissed and a bit miffed, Rick went back into the kitchen and filled Brandy’s bowl with kibble and then two can’s of Wolf’s Tooth raccoon flavored dog food. Rick tossed the empty cans into the trash and watched Brandy chow down.

“You like raccoon flavor huh? How do the people that make this stuff know what raccoon tastes like?” Rick turned on a burner and grabbed a pan, as he spoke, “I bet you’d rather have eggs and sausage.”

Cliff put some coffee grinds and tap water in the percolated and plugged it in. He grabbed the last two slices of white bread and put them in the toaster. “Maybe a meal will put him in a better mood.” Rick said looking down at Brandy, who was sitting on at his feet, her tail whipping contentedly across the linoleum covered floor.

Rick fried up some sausages and a couple of eggs with ample butter, he glanced at Brandy, “Well obviously I’m trying to butter him up, let’s see if the old adage is true, the quickest way to a man’s heart is his stomach.”

  
Brandy blinked at Rick and then walked over to the back door. Rick sighed and set the bread to toasting before walking over and letting Brandy outside. “I thought you were listening to me, you just want me to wait on you too, huh?” Brandy skipped out the backdoor without so much as a glance back.

“You’re heartless, just like your daddy!” Rick called after her.

Cliff could hear the sound of Rick talking to himself or Brandy, he couldn’t make out the words but the he liked the slightly manic singsong lilt Rick had when he thought no one was listening to him. The pain medication was finally kicking in and Cliff was feeling a little better. He sighed heavily hating being laid up, and also because he knew what was rallying his spirit was the sound of Rick being home again. The bedroom door swung open wide and Rick walked in with a bed tray.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Rick said settling the tray over Cliff’s lap.

Cliff looked at the eggs, sausage, buttered toast and a fresh Bloody Mary. The eggs looked a little runny, and the toast was a tad burnt. Cliff sighed and started eating he could feel Rick watching him intently.

“Are you just going to stare at me while I eat?” Cliff asked while chewing his very crunchy toast.

Rick parted his lips to speak but the doorbell chimed interrupting him. “I better get that.” Rick turned left the room.

Cliff stared at the food, for a moment, instantly missing Rick now that he had left the room. “Get your head together Booth.” He uttered to himself before taking a long drink of his Bloody Mary.

**Friends of Dorothy**

**Part 8**

Rick opened the door and saw a smiling Steve McQueen standing before him, he had a basket covered in cellophane with stiff pale blue and orange ribbons wrapped around it.

“Heya Rick. How’s the patient?” Steve smiled at him brightly, his mirrored aviator sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“He’s eating his breakfast.” Rick replied, “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll see if he’s feeling up for a sh-short visit.”

“Of course he is, but if you want to go through the formalities I guess I’ll just wait.” Steve chuckled as if humoring a child. “I’ve never really understood it, you know, all the formality that we Americans go for, it’s not like I’m a gentleman caller coming to see a debutant.”

“He’s in a lot of pain.” Rick snapped. “He mayn’t want to shoot the shit right now, it’s simple. We have a phone, you could’ve called.”

“We, huh?” Steve pulled off his sunglasses leaning back on the couch like he owned the place, he pointed at Rick, “So you and Cliff, huh? I thought maybe he was just splitting the rent, but sounds like you’re uh, sharing everything.”

Rick jut out his chin, and then lowered it fixing his gaze on Steve theatrically, “What’s it to you?”

“He could do better.” Steve shrugged.

Rick blinked rapidly, it wasn’t the snide remark he’d been expecting, he’d been expecting something, but not that.

“Rick?” Cliff’s voice came traveling up the hallway.

“You would be wise to shut your mouth.” Rick said narrowing his eyes at Steve.

“Or what?” Steve stood up with the ease of cat and set his shoulders back, “You gonna shut it for me? I don’t know what I ever did to you Rick, but ever since we met you’ve had it out for me. Well if you want a piece of me, I’m ready when you are.”

“Steve?” Cliff was standing in the hallway, he’d shuffled in with one crutch under his arm and was bracing himself against the wall.

Steve looked at Cliff and gestured to the cellophane wrapped gift on the table, “I brought you a basket.”

Cliff looked at the basket and then back to Steve who smiled warmly at him. Suddenly Rick was a blur of motion his fist landed in Steve’s eye.Steve stumbled back and sat down on the couch, his hands flying up to his face.

“Get the hell outta my house.” Rick said, “and stay away from Cliff, you pompous weasel.”

Cliff raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, before speaking “Thanks for the basket, uh, it sounds like you better get going.”

Steve stood up, and pointed at Rick, “You sucker punched me.” The heel of Steve’s palm was pressed over his left eye, his right eye was watering and a little wide with disbelief.

“I’ll do it again, I said get out.” Rick’s chest was puffed out and he was breathing hard.

“Cliff, I’ll see you at the premier, I can’t believe you… this, him. So uncool. I’ll knock your head off if you ever come near me again… goddamned it that hurts, you’re getting the bill if I have to get any work done on this… sonofabitch.” Steve wobbled a bit but made his way out the front door and slammed it behind himself.

Rick’s veins were teaming with adrenaline he took a several long breaths and looked at Cliff, not knowing what he was going to say or do then finally asked “Do you want me to help you back to the bed?”

“D’you just stake your claim on me? I heard you tell McQueen to stay away from me like you own me, but you won’t name what it is between us.” Cliff said calmly.

“What do you mean name what’s between us? Why does it need a name, you live here, we share a bed, meals, I don’t see anyone but you, you know that?!”

“You might not see anyone but you don’t think it’s anything at all that you went half way across the world so your ex-wife can save face at some European film festival?”

“Nothing happened, you have to know that. We’re done, she’s got a boyfriend, I’ve got you, don’t I?”

“Is that what I am to you, a boyfriend? What are we, two kids in grade school?” Cliff’s voice was loud and low.

Rick blinked rapidly, he’d seen Cliff get annoyed, frustrated, and just plain grumpy, but it had never been directed at him, and for the second time in two days he felt like Cliff was about to start yelling at him in earnest. “What do you want me to call you? You’re, you’re my best friend, and you know we’ve got, what we’ve got… um.” Rick faltered, “I mean, there’s no name for what we are…"

“I guess that’s right, there’s no name for it. Just two married men passing the time with their best friend. I’ve been here before Rick and I don’t like, I’m not cut out for it. I will not tolerate it. A one sided situation isn’t what I want.” Cliff clicked his tongue and Brandy appeared by his side.

“What are you saying, one sided, you know I-I have, you’re my, like… the only.” Rick looked at Brandy as if she might intervene and talk some sense into Cliff.

“The only what, Rick?” Cliff demanded.Cliff’s voice had gotten quieter but it wasn’t comforting in the least, if anything it made Rick feel jumpier.

“You can’t even say it, you can’t even name it.” Cliff muttered, “I don’t want to be in a one sided romance, that’s the long and the short of it, and if that’s the case I’ll cut my losses and move out. Am I just the live in help? Your chauffeur, bed warmer and home security all rolled into one?”

“I can too, say-say it.” Rick stuttered. He stepped forward and carefully rested his hands on Cliff’s arm, “You’re the love of my life, is what you are.”

Cliff blinked, he shut his mouth and stared at the carpet. He nodded once tightly and turned leaning into the wall and limped back towards the bedroom. Brandy walked beside him looking back at Rick over her shoulder once. Rick stood frozen and then walked after Cliff, he squeezed himself between the wall and Cliff, and wrapped his arm around Cliff’s waist, “You don’t have to to do this on your own. You’re always looking after me, I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

**Breakfast in Bed**

**Part 9**

Cliff had another night of fitful sleep, the pain wasn’t much better than it had been when he’d arrived at home a week ago. There were two things that Cliff thought about when he woke up that morning, he’d been in one hell of car accident and Rick had told him he was the love of his life.

“You’re awake.” Rick said as he stepped into their shared bedroom.

“Where’s Brandy?” Cliff asked.

“She’s eating her breakfast.” Rick leaned over and folded his arms gently around Cliff pulling him into an upright position.

“I’m not an invalid.” Cliff said quietly.

“You kind of are,” Rick sat on the edge of the bed and opened up Cliff’s pill bottle and handed him two, “Temporarily,” He gave Cliff a tall glass of water, “Down the hatch.”

Cliff nodded curtly and swallowed the pills. For months he’d been waiting for Rick to tell him he loved him, and then he’d ran off to Berlin and now he was back and he was looking after him, and told him he was the love of his life, and Cliff believed him, with his whole being he believed him, but yet he hadn’t been able to make the same proclamation.

“I’ll get breakfast started. I got a new cookbook.” Rick smiled sheepishly, but continued with enthusiasm, “When I had to go to the pharmacy on Tuesday, did you know there’s a bookstore right next-door? Anyways, they had a cookbook right in the window, so I bought it. Then I was reading it the night before last, you know, kind of picking things out that I think aren’t too um, complicated… I like simple things, you know?”

Cliff nodded, “Me too.”

“I found a recipe that I’m going to make for you. But, uh, well it’s a surprise… I think you’ll like it.”

“Don’t go out of your way, Rick.”

“I’m not, I’m just taking care of you is all.” Rick nodded to himself and stood up, “Because I love you.” Rick kissed the corner of Cliff’s mouth a quick and chaste peck.

Cliff nodded and drank some more of his water, not looking at Rick.

“Uh, I’ll go get started in the kitchen.” Rick said and left the room in a hurry.

Cliff rested his eyes. He could still recall the accident, every single second that ticked by felt like minutes etched into his memories. Flashes of the accident would come back to him when it was the furthest thing from his mind, almost as suddenly as it had happened. This wasn’t the first time he’d experienced reliving calamities, there were many moments from the war that still haunted him.

Cliff sat up slowly feeling stiff and aching, he thought of calling Rick from the Kitchen, but remained silent. During the accident a part of Cliff’s mind had been focused on getting the car under control, keeping his breathing steady, going through the motions of what to do when your car is flying along and then chaos happens and your vehicle is spinning like dervish, the other part of his mind had been wishing he’d gone to the airport. Wishing he’d gotten to kiss Rick one more time, to see his smiling eyes, to give him a crushing embrace. Then the car had stopped moving, and he’d lived. He was a bit more busted and broken than before, it had definitely aged him, but he didn’t feel any wiser. Cliff rested his eyes. He wondered how long Rick was going to continue being stubborn, he refused to hire a nurse, he was waiting on Cliff hand and foot, and almost seemed happy about. Cliff’s head was spinning from pain pills and feeling inside about about Rick, he loved him too, he did, he’d wanted Cliff to say something, but he’d said so much more than Cliff had expected. Cliff rested his eyes and the opiates he was on did the rest and he was out cold.

When Cliff awoke it was to the smell of warm bread, bacon, coffee and spices. He cracked his eyes and saw Rick setting a tray down on top of the bedside table.

“Here it is.” Rick said, his voice soft, his eyes smiling. “It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be, although it took longer than I expected.” Rick looked from the tray to Cliff, “Are you hungry?”

Cliff rubbed his hands over his face, this guy he thought, this is the guy you love?“I could eat a horse.” Cliff said looking at the man he loved so much it hurt. Cliff watched as Rick leaned over him, felt Rick’s arms gently close around him. Cliff sighed involuntarily, and then nestled his face into Rick’s shoulder and neck.

“Let’s get you in the upright position.” Rick said quietly. Rick propped Cliff up with care. Cliff could smell Rick’s cologne, and the Brylcreem in his hair.

“I made your favorites.” Rick announced.

“Eggs over easy, chili beans, bacon, cornbread, coffee and a Bloody Mary.” Rick said.

Cliff looked at the tray and the plate piled with food, he swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten and cleared it roughly. “That’s a lot of food, you better help me with it.”

“Oh sure, of course.” Rick placed the tray over Cliff’s lap and beamed at him, then grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and sat down next to Cliff.

Cliff started eating the meal that Rick had made for him, he could feel Rick’s eyes on him. “Are you going to share this with me or just watch me eat?”

“Both, maybe, I guess… hey you remember, New Year’s Eve?” Rick reached over and broke off a piece of cornbread his eyes on the plate.

“Despite several rounds of whiskey and the midnight champagne, of course I do.” Rick smirked recalling the party up at the Polanski’s place.

“Well I’ll never forget it.” Rick said with a soft smile, color rising in his cheeks.

**Memories of Midnight**

**Part 10**

**December 31st, 1969**

Cliff had reluctantly gone up the winding drive to the Polanski’s place for New Year’s Eve. On the hike up the music had been pouring off their property and rolling down the hill, combining with other noisy and festive gatherings at nearby homes. The air had been cold, but it was California cold, which just meant a jacket was for once, more than a formality, it served a function.

Earlier that evening they’d indulged in three rounds of post dinner cocktails at The Smoke House, and between driving back from Burbank to Rick’s house Cliff had almost managed to persuade Rick to just stay in for the night. But Rick had started getting sullen and Cliff gave in and said he’d come up and say hi to the Polanski’s and have one drink and then he was going to back to the house and hang out with Brandy.

Over an hour later Cliff found himself standing beside Rick in the neighbors’ garden, neither of them had even seen Roman or Sharon and it was now just a few minutes before midnight. There were Christmas lights strung above making a glowing grid of soft candy colored lights, Rick’s eyes were alive with a nervous energy that made Cliff wonder what was going on in his head. People were chatting and taking photographs drinking and laughing, Cliff took it all in feeling like he always did when he went to big galas, like and alien on a strange planet. A girl dressed in a spangled vest and mini skirt approached them both with a platter full of champagne flutes.

“Almost time to ring in the new year!” She said excitedly.

“Say have you seen Sharon, the eh, lady of the house, Mrs Polanski?” Rick asked as he lifted two glasses from her tray.

“Oh no sorry mister, I don’t think I know who she is, I’m with the catering company.” The girl shrugged and approached another clutch of people offering champagne.

“Rick, Brandy hates fireworks.” Cliff lied, he was the one that hated them. “I’m going down the hill.”

“Don’t go yet, it’s just a couple of minutes, we’re st-starting a new decade, you can’t just kiss your dog a midnight.”

“I can and I will.” Cliff snorted.

Just then the crowd started counting down, Cliff sighed and nodded along to the shouted numbers. He looked past Rick’s shoulder and saw that a woman who looked remarkably like Julie London was making her way towards Rick, no doubt to be in close proximity when everyone grabbed onto the nearest body for a new year’s eve kiss. Just as the crowd shouted ‘THREE’ Rick turned to Cliff and grabbed him by his forearm and pulled him off behind a small lemon tree that was thick with leaves, by the time the party goers crowed ‘ONE’ they were well hidden from prying eyes, and when the roar of ‘Happy New Year’ and the cacophony of horns and whistles filled the air Rick and Cliff were standing face to face their eyes locked, and then they were kissing. Neither one had kissed the other first, it had been like two magnets connecting. That had been their first kiss, and nothing had been the same since, the love that had always been between them hadn’t changed so much as it evolved, the seed had been sprouted years ago, but now it was in bloom and its true colors were as beautiful as the candy colored Christmas lights they stood beneath.

**A Close Shave**

**Part 11**

**Septemper 10th, 1970**

Cliff woke up on his side, Brandy was breathing in his face, her tail beating on the soft carpet.

“Good morning to you.” Cliff sat up slowly, he’d been laid up for eight weeks his cast had been removed the day before, his stiff knee had been drilled through with pins, and he’d be buried with them. He hoped that one day it would amuse an archaeologist.Cliff sat up and set his feet on the carpeted floor, he curled his toes enjoying their liberation from the stinking plaster cast he’d been wearing. He stroked Brandy’s head and then examined his wrists, he rolled the right one and listened to it click softly. “Just falling apart, one piece at a time, huh, Brandy?” Cliff slapped her sides making her wiggle with excitement. There was no sign of Rick, but that was the new normal, Rick was most likely in the kitchen.

Cliff walked slowly into the kitchen, the room smelled of oranges, the zesty scent tickled his nose, it was combined with the savory scent of bacon.

“You’re up.” Rick said, “should we eat by the pool, get you a change of scenery?”

“Sure, why not.” Cliff opened the cupboard to take out the plates but he felt Rick’s hands on his shoulders.

“Just go out and have a seat, I’ll bring it out.” Rick said as he steered Cliff towards the back door.

“Alright.” Cliff said hesitantly.

********

Cliff raised his eyes to watch wispy clouds spread thin across the sky, it was too early for the Santa Ana winds, but the breeze was warm, he had a hard time believing that fall had nearly arrived. He’d wasted the whole summer recuperating from his injuries. Cliff took a long sip from his coffee cup, Brandy’s chin was rested on his bare feet and Rick seated across from him reading the latest issue of Variety Magazine and chewing on a slice of buttered toast.

“You’ve gotten to be good cook.” Cliff said, he was genuinely surprised at how peaceful he was feeling, he didn’t mind that he’d been laid up for eight weeks, he felt rested, and grateful that Rick had looked after him so well.

“Hmm?” Rick murmured lowering the paper.

“I said your cooking has improved.” Cliff said.

“It has, I didn’t burn any of the bacon and I think these are my best Chilaquiles yet. I’m glad I picked up that Mexican cookbook.” Rick smirked, “I’ve got four new cookbooks, just so I could feed you right. I guess they’re an investment.”

Cliff smiled softly and watched the sun dance on the pools surface, their breakfast had been more of a brunch they’d eaten so late. The sun was still climbing the sky heading towards its zenith. Cliff felt sleepy and lazy, and he was starting to think he was feeling happy too. “I think it’s high time I took a shower.” Cliff said, as he fingered the scarred skin near his knee.

Rick set down his magazine and watched Cliff silently.

Cliff ran his hands over his face and scrubbed his hairy cheeks with his finger tips, a scruffy beard had grown in during the last two months.

“You look like a damn hippie.” Rick chuckled, “Smell like one too.”

Cliff got on his feet and started to collect his dishes but Rick stayed his hand and said, “I got this mess, you go hop in the tub.”

“Well alright, but you know I’m on the mend, you don’t have to play nurse anymore.” Cliff said.

“Don’t be stubborn, healing from that kind of thing takes time.” Rick chided and gently pushed Cliff towards the house, “Get in there. It’s about time I look after you anyhow, you’ve been looking after me for over a decade.”

Cliff paused and then said over his shoulder, “Don’t I know it,” and was very surprised when Rick slapped his ass.

********

Rick cleared the patio table of dishes and set them in the sink, promising himself he’d was them all up after dinner, that way he’d only have to do the dishes once that day. He walked back to the bathroom and stood by the door.

“Hey Cliff?” Rick said softly, and knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” Cliff said.

Rick pressed open the door and poked his head around it feeling coy, even though he was the one that was fully dressed he felt oddly vulnerable standing there and gazing on Cliff in the bath.

Cliff paused from his scrubbing and looked up at Rick with a crooked smile, “Did you want to tell me something?”

“Uh no.” Rick said, he looked down at the fluffy carpet on the floor next to the bathtub, and then grabbed a wash cloth off the rack and knelt down next to the edge of the bath. He dunked the cloth in the warm soapy water and then grabbed the bar of soap that was sitting on the lip of the tub.

“I can bathe myself.” Cliff said in a gentle tone, his eyes searching Rick’s.

“I know that, but I can get your back better than you can.” Rick smiled, his cheeks growing rosy.

“That’s true.” Cliff smiled faintly, he leaned forward giving Rick better access to his back.

Rick leaned over the edge of the tub and scrubbed the soapy cloth over Cliff’s back. He took his time rubbing Cliff’s skin pink between his shoulder blades, down his spine, and over his ribs. There were pale scars, and freckles.

“Is this alright?” Rick asked.

“Uh-huh.” Cliff replied.

“I know your back is still giving you trouble.” Rick said, as he gently scrubbed over Cliff’s shoulders, going across from one to the other, around the front of his chest across his wide clavicle and then gently up the back of his neck.

“It’s not too bad today.” Cliff, his eyes were shut, his mouth relaxed, making his full lips look all the more inviting to Rick.

Rick dunked the cloth again in the bath water and ran it slowly across Cliff’s chest. Rick felt a tightening in his groin, his cock gave a little kick, wanting attention, he sighed and focused on bathing Cliff.

Cliff’s eyes were still shut, but his mouth had parted even wider as Rick ran the soapy cloth down over his stomach, dipping under the water line, Rick abandoned the cloth and ran his hand up Cliff’s chest and leaned over pressed his mouth over Cliff’s. Cliff’s mouth opened and his tongue meeting Rick’s. Cliff drew a sucking breath tightening the kiss, sealing their mouths for a brief moment. Rick moaned and leaned further over the tub, angling for purchase. He rested a palm against the tile wall to keep his balance and rested his free hand on the side of Cliff’s neck, his thumb caressing over Cliff’s Adam’s apple. It was their first real kiss since Rick had returned from Berlin and he hadn’t realized how hungry he’d been for Cliff, and afraid he’d been to make a move, afraid that Cliff would still be angry with him, or worse reject his advances.

Cliff opened his eyes and looked at Rick, he reached up stroking his cheek.

“It feels like it’s been years since you kissed me.” Cliff said.

“Well, you’ve been recovering.” Rick whispered.

“I didn’t injure my lips.” Cliff said.

“I know.” Rick shifted back.

Cliff reached up and grabbed the collar of Rick’s shirt and pulled him back, he kissed Rick slowly, his fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Rick moaned and parted his lips, he squeezed Rick’s damp warm shoulders. When their lips parted their temples met with gentle pressure.

“I’ve never kissed you with a beard.” Rick chuckled and stroked Cliff’s cheek, stroking droplets from the coarse hair.

“It’s not much of beard, a bit short, kinda patchy.” Cliff said with a smile in his eyes as he scratched at his cheek.

“Well maybe I can help with that.” Rick smiled brightly and sat back on his heels.

“Sounds like you have an idea and that makes me nervous.” Cliff said with a smile, enjoying the curious glint in Rick’s eyes.

Rick got on his feet and grabbed Cliff’s dark blue bathrobe from its hook, “Come on old man, get on your feet.”

“Who you calling an old man?” Cliff grumbled, buthis tone was betrayed by his smile.

Rick slipped Cliff’s robe over his shoulders and gently knotted the belt at his waist. Cliff rested one hand on Rick shoulder and stepped out of the tub.

“Sit down right here.” Rick gestured to the toilet.

“Right here on the commode?” Cliff sat down and looked up at Rick.

“I am going to sheer you like a spring time lamb.” Rick said.

Cliff paused, his eyebrows raised, and then nodded, “Well get to it.”

Rick covered Cliff’s shoulders with a towel, tucking the front of it into his robe like a bib and then began snipped the longer hairs of his beard till they were short. Cliff sat patiently watching Rick move with an unusual amount of focus.

“Let’s get you lathered up.” Rick said as he put a dollop of Barbasol shaving foam in his hand.

Cliff lifted his chin and watched Rick’s bright eyes, his summer tan made his eyes appear a more pale blue, the same blue as the sky. Cliff swallowed feeling his heart flutter. After all this time, Rick was still able to make his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t be nervous, I got a safety razor. I’m not going to skin you.”

“I know, I’m not nervous.” Cliff said.

Rick gently ran the razor over the crest Cliff’s cheek, and down to the the line of his jaw. Rick could hear the hair hiss against the razor as he made short little strokes over Cliff’s upper lip, he liked the long rough licking noise the razor made down the side of Cliff’s neck. Rick took a long slow breath in and out as he worked. His trousers were feeling tight, and his skin hot from his throat to his groin.

Cliff tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He let his shoulders drop, and felt the tension draining from his body. The hot bath, the gentle constant movement of the razor on his skin, the taste of Rick tongue on his own, settled him deeper into a peaceful state. It didn’t hurt that the Valium he’d taken after breakfast was now fully swimming in his blood stream. He felt a warm wash cloth wipe over his cheeks and neck. The towel that had been wrapped around his neck and shoulders was peeled away.

“There you are, you were hiding under all that fuzz.” Rick kissed Cliff’s freshly shaved cheek, and then the corner of his eye. “Are you alright in there?”

“Never better.” Cliff said with a sleepy eyed smile.

Cliff lowered his gaze and saw the impression of Rick’s hard cock in his trousers. Cliff pursed his lips and looked up at Rick.

“Seems I’ve got your full attention.”

“Did you take something?” Rick asked, as he took Cliff’s hands in his own and pulled him onto his feet.

“Some Valium, Codeine and Cyclobenzaprine.” Cliff pressed his face into Rick’s neck and murmured, “Feeling pretty good, really good, very, very good. And I can tell you feel good too.” Cliff pressed hands over Rick’s hips and pulled him close, and then wrapped his arms around Rick’s waist and squeezed him.

A low sigh of desire escaped Rick’s lips and he turned his head searching for Cliff’s lips. The kiss was tender and soft. “You know that kind of cocktail sounds a bit dangerous?” Rick said softly.

“I might have over done it.” Cliff smiled.

“Let’s get you in bed, you pill popping maniac.” Rick sighed.

Cliff nodded and before he knew it Rick had swept him up in his arms and was carrying him like a bride to their bedroom. “I’ll make it up to you.” Cliff muttered.

“I don’t doubt it, but listen here, I’m not running an opium den, you got that?” Rick said in playful tone.

  
“Yes sir.” Cliff smiled as he was laid down on the bed, he reached out and grabbed Rick’s wrist.

“Alright.” Rick said looking at Cliff’s hand on his wrist, he didn’t need Cliff to ask, Rick laid down beside him.

Rick scooted closer to Cliff and slid his arm underneath him, he was warm and docile from all the drugs. The idea of messing around slowly died in the back of Rick’s mind, he was tempted to jerk off, but decided that he could wait and wrapped his long arms and legs around Cliff and burrowed his face in the side of his neck. His skin smelled pleasantly of Irish Spring Soap and Barbasol Shaving foam.

**Hooray for Hollywood**

**Part 12**

**Septemper 12th, 1970**

Cliff walked up the hill slowly, it was the first time he’d taken Brandy on a walk since before the accident. She in her usual happy canine spirit bounced around him and tugged at her leash, attempting to tow him up the hill at her pace instead of the one he wanted.

“Who’s in charge?” Cliff asked.

Brandy wagged her tail slowly, she blinked her little eyes at him as if to plead her case, that she was a good and loyal girl.

“That’s right.” Cliff leaned over slowly, his back muscles twinged but he ignored the sharp pain and patted Brandy soundly on the ribs, “I’m in charge, but you’re second in command.”

Brandy’s tail whipped excitedly, and she hopped a bit and then resumed walking up the hill, sniffing at intervals, reinspecting all her usual touchstones that they passed on the way to and from the house. “I know Rick’s been taking you on walks, but I doubt he keeps to your preferred route.”

When they got to the house Brandy flopped on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor with a satisfied huff after emptying her water bowl. Cliff crouched down carefully and picked it up, ignoring the pain in his right knee and back. “I’m not ready to retire.” Cliff said filling the water bowl, thinking about getting back to work, and wondering if anyone would have him.

“Hey, there you are.” Rick leaned on the kitchen counter and watched as Cliff set down the bowl of water. “How about you be my date tonight?”

“What?” Cliff straightened up with care looking at Rick’s smiling face.

“I’ve been invited to a premier, and I got a plus one, how about it?” Rick beamed at him.

“Maybe you should see if Sharon’s free.” Cliff said.

“What? No, I want you to come with me.” Rick said in petulant tone.

Cliff couldn’t help but smile, Rick had been on good behavior for months and this was the first time he’d whined about anything.

“Rick, there’s no way I can sit through an entire film, my back is killing me.” Cliff said.

Rick folded his arms, and compressed his lips, “We’ll leave if you get too uncomfortable.”

“Well my back’s only half of it, I like to stretch out my let, it gets stiff real fast, since I got stabbed in it. Then if I put too much weight on my right knee.” Cliff said.

“Come on now, it’s got Jack Nicholson, you-you’ve told me you like him, he’s the lead.” Rick stepped forward and rested his hands on Cliff’s chest, pleading his case.

Cliff smiled letting Rick crowd him, they’d been flirting like teenagers for the last two days and now that Cliff was off his pain-pills it was like playing with matches in an acer of tinder. Every little thing Rick did stoked Cliff’s once dormant appetite.

“He’s good, not as good as you.” Cliff said, “Why don’t you go solo?”

“C’mon the director Bob Rafelson invited me, he’s going places and he’s a fan of Bounty Law, I want you to come with me, he should meet you too.”

“Bob Rafelson, the guy that put together that kid’s show, The Monkees?” Cliff scoffed.

“It’s a serious drama, it’s called Five Easy Pieces. Please, Cliff?”

“I’m not up to driving.” Cliff lied. 

“You don’t have to, I’m a licensed driver again.” Rick smiled, his eyes arching. “Come on, it’s going to be a big deal, there’s a black tie party afterward, lots of producers and the like, looking for talent and reliable stuntmen like yourself. I’ll be your chauffeur, it’ll be a hell of a night.”

“You’re gonna wanna drink, are you sure you want to drive?” Cliff sighed feeling his resistance wearing down.

“I won’t touch a drop, we can drink when we get home, and if I do drink we can take a cab.” Rick said reasonably.

“Fine. I’ll go.” Cliff.

“Good, I steamed your tux while you were walking Brandy.”

“You wily _sonofabitch_.” Cliff laughed, “You knew I’d say yes.”

  
“I hoped. I was afraid you were in a bad mood, you know, when you left so early to walk Brandy.” Rick said.

“Nah, just a little sore,”Cliff lied easily and shrugged, his back was aching, and his knee was throbbing, “Nothing to worry about.” Cliff ran his hand over Rick’s head affectionately.

“You know, you scare me, I mean just a little bit, when you’re in a bad mood.” Rick said softly.

“Good.” Cliff chuckled, and added, “You owe me big, putting me in a monkey suit, it’s gonna cost you.” Cliff waved his finger in Rick’s face, and then pressed his hands on either side of Rick’s neck, resting his thumbs and index fingers under his jaw, and kissed him deeply.

********

Cliff sat back in the passenger seat and stretched his legs out, he rolled down the window, feeling slightly restless. “Did you get the car cleaned?” Cliff asked running his finger tips over the dash, maintaining the Coupe De Ville was his job, normally.

“I took her in for a tune up, figured a good cleaning and wax wouldn’t hurt, just in case we made it to the premier tonight.” Rick smiled.

“You’re getting too devious for your own good, it’s like you knew you’d get your way.” Cliff clucked his tongue and curled the corner of his mouth. “You’re spoiled.”

“What? Am not.” Rick retorted quickly, he reached up and adjusted his tie in the rearview mirror.

“Well then I guess I’ll have to try harder,” Cliff said as he reached over and grabbed Rick’s wrist.

Rick looked over curiously and watched as Cliff strapped a watch around his wrist. “What’s this for?” Rick asked looking at the watch’s unusual square face, it was dark blue, there were two smaller dials and the date was showing at the bottom.

“It matches your suit,” Cliff said with a smile.

“It’s got more dials than I can read,” Rick smiled down at the watch looking very pleased.

“It survived the crash just like me.” Cliff said.

“Oh, you should keep it.” Rick started to unbuckle the strap but Cliff placed his hand over his.

“You keep it, makes me feel better…” Cliff trailed off and then patted the door of the car saying, “Are we gonna sit in the driveway all night?”

“No sir.” Rick adjusted the watch looking as tickled as a prom date with a corsage.

Cliff hated wearing formal wear, but he loved how Rick looked in his dark blue suit, it was fashionably cut, he wore it with a pale blue shirt, sapphire shirt studs and matching cufflinks, he looked long and lean, a little dangerous like James Bond, but the sapphires added that touch of Hollywood hedonism, Cliff couldn’t pull his eyes off of him.

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Rick said brightly and started the engine and turned on the radio.

Cliff nodded, and lowered his eyes to his knee, he rubbed it. Cliff had skipped the pain pills, he felt it was time to wean himself off of them completely, he’d not taken any since Rick had given him a shave. He sighed and reminded himself he’d worked on films doing stunts stone cold sober in far more pain than he was now, sitting in a car was easy. The main thing that was annoying Cliff, more than his aches and pains, was the bowtie he was wearing. He’d not worn his tux for nearly a year, and while it was feeling a little looser then it had last November, he still found it stifling.

“I think I could get used to driving you around.” Rick smiled as his Coupe De Ville made its way down the hill, its engine running smoothly.

“How can you sit there cool as cucumber in a tuxedo?” Cliff asked tugging at his bowtie.

“It’s not so bad, maybe we should take you to my tailor, I bet once he does his magic you won’t even know you’re wearing one.”

“Maybe, if he clubs me over the head with his sewing machine.” Cliff said under his breath.

“What was that?” Rick asked turning down the volume on the stereo.

“Smoke?” Cliff asked.

Rick pulled out his pack at the stop sign and gave a cigarette to Cliff, he leaned over and lit him for him. “Well I think you look like a million bucks, you should have been an actor. I’d hate to have the competition.”

“I don’t want to be an actor.” Cliff took a drag off the cigarette and then leaned over and put it in Rick’s mouth. Cliff remembered Steve told him he should be a race car driver, “I like doing what I do.”

Rick took a drag and exhaled slowly watching Cliff. “I guess that’s just lucky for me, I don’t want you being chased by producers and starlets.”

Cliff shook his head and put his aviators on, he could feel heat rising in his cheeks, it was a rare thing that anyone could make him blush, but somehow when Rick looked at him like that, his cheeks started to burn. Cliff watched the world go by, traffic was getting soupy, it was a Saturday night in Hollywood and everyone was coming out of the wood work, hitting the bars, restaurants, coffee houses and dance clubs. On the main strip neon lights were flickering to life and casual pedestrians were vanishing into the shadows.More and more people came out, the well heeled and the hungry artists, everyone in the latest styles were taking to the boulevard. Cliff spotted an old billboard with a faded poster for film The Reivers, Steve McQueen’s face was crowned with his reddish blonde ringlets, he was recognizable from half a block away. The ubiquitous bastard is everywhere, Cliff thought, but felt no real animosity towards him.

“I wonder if Steve will send me an invite to the premier of his Le Mans films.” Cliff tilted his head, watching Rick with interest.

“What is he gonna call it?” Rick asked.

“Le Mans.” Cliff replied.

“Well that’s creative,” Rick said sarcastically, “and you know what else, it would be the least he could do to invite you to the premier! It’s his fault you got all banged up, damned irresponsible. Next time I see him, I, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

Cliff smirked, “Easy tiger.”

Rick braked a little harder than necessary at a signal, “I think he’s got ideas about you Cliff. I’ll tell you, I don’t li-like that sonofabitch. He’s smug and reckless, and a, ah, cad.”

Cliff put a cigarette in is mouth to hide the smile that threatened to cross his lips, “A cad.” Cliff repeated and nodded lighting up. “I mean, someone could say the same of us, two married men carrying on like we do.” Cliff blew out a long stream of smoke, his eyes dancing with mirth.

“No.” Rick shook his head, “We’re, not.”

Cliff turned his head away stifling laughter. He watched the fall tourists strolling up and down Hollywood Blvd, taking in the sights.

“What’s so amusing?” Rick asked haughtily.

“You.” Cliff turned and smiled fondly at Rick. “You just passed Grauman's Chinese Theatre.” Cliff gestured with his thumb over his shoulder.

“I don’t care, why’re you laughing at me.” Rick had that look that Cliff knew so well, it meant that Rick was about to get all caught up in his feelings.

“I don’t care about Steve. He’s not you. You don’t need to be jealous.” Cliff reached across the bench seat and rested his hand on Rick’s thigh. “We just past Musso and Frank’s, you should hang a right on Cahuenga and we can swing around by taking Selma to Highland.”

“I’m driving, not you.” Rick said irritably as he followed Cliff’s directions, “Steve, he’s, I don’t know, he’s like my kryptonite, he gets all the good roles, and the minute I do something stupid,”

“Like fly to Berlin?” Cliff threw in.

“He just sweeps in and gets you a great job, it probably paid triple to the stuff I’ve been and able to find you and now he’s his own production company, and you just know his film’s gonna be a huge success. Mister King of Cool. I’m not saying he’s not good looking, he’s a handsome man, in a kind of thuggish way.” Rick shrugged, “I guess I’m saying I wouldn’t blame you… if, you thought about it…” Rick sighed sinking into his seat.

Cliff shook his head and took a drag off his cigarette, he tapped ash out the window said, “Hey, turn into this parking structure.”

“I was going to do valet.” Rick said sounding miserable.

“Trust me.” Cliff said sitting back in his seat.

Rick pulled into the parking structure. An attendant put a time stamped stub under the blade of his windshield wiper and waved him through. “I guess a walk will do me some good.” Rick said sounding melancholy. Rick started to turn into a empty spot but Cliff leaned over and rested his hand on the the steering wheel.

“Let’s park on the roof, I want to see the view.” Cliff said.

Rick paused and shrugged, he drove up the nine levels till they were alone on the very top of the parking structure. Rick sighed and looked around as he cut the engine, “Well there’s the Roosevelt. I never realized it was so tall, must be a dozen floors at least.” Rick tilted his head peering at the neon sign the glowed above the old hotel.

“Yep and over there,” Cliff pointed beyond the windshield, “Is the Hollywood sign.”

“Huh. There it is.” Rick tilted his head in thought, “You know I kind of stopped seeing it, but I remember the first time I saw it. It was looking a little rundown back then, but now, it’s got a fresh coat.” Rick nodded and smiled lightly. “I heard it was a real estate company that put that there,”

Rick felt Cliff’s hand rest on the side of his neck, and he was hauled sideways. Cliff’s lips pressed warmly into his. Rick leaned forward and scooted closer to the center of the bench seat, Cliff folded one arm around Rick and held him close.

Cliff kissed Rick breathless and pressed his fingers in his hair, his other hand tugged Rick’s bowtie loose, his busy fingers pulled at the button hidden beneath it.

Rick lifted his gaze and met Cliff’s eyes. The fine lines on Rick’s face were softened by the twilight, his blue eyes shined, mesmerizing Cliff. Rick pressed his palms up Cliff’s chest, pressing his fingers of the slim pleats of his crisp white shirt, he loosed the bowtie that had been bothering Cliff so much and held onto both ends of the velveteen fabric and dragged him forward and willingly into a slow sultry kiss. “I love you Cliff.” Rick said against his lover’s lips, “Like I’ve never loved any other.”

Cliff unbuttoned Rick’s jacket, and nudged his nose against Ricks, “Say that again.”

“I love you.” Rick said his breath coming faster, “And, I want you.”

“I want you too.” Cliff said as he ran his hand up the inside of Rick’s thigh, he closed his hand firmly over Rick’s crotch, rubbing him through the fabric of his dark blue dress pants.

“I missed you so much,” Rick sighed lifting his hips against Cliff’s touch.

Rick kissed Cliff across his jaw, and down the side of his neck, he breathed in the sharp clean sent of his after shave, the light cigarette scent still clinging to his hair mixed with the rich smell of shampoo scented with sandalwood, beneath the soap and laundry detergent, was the smell and taste of Cliff Booth, and Rick craved it, he touched his tongue Cliff’s lips, and kissed Cliff’s temple, and nuzzled him.

Cliff rested his opposite hand on Rick’s stomach and ran his hand down, he hooked his and index finger over the top of Rick’s cummerbund and slid his finger back and forth along the silken black fabric. “Maybe you should take this off?”

Rick pulled his jacket off and dropped it in the back seat, he reached back and unfastened his cummerbund, while Cliff unbuttoned the studs of his pale blue shirt. “Shame to take this all off, you look good in blue.”

“You think so?” Rick asked coyly.

“I do.” Cliff grabbed hold of Rick’s hips and attempted to pull him into his lap, but a sharp pain ran up his back that stopped him cold. “Damnit.” Cliff muttered.

“Oh no you don’t,” Rick said. He slid his arm around Cliff’s waist pulled him into his lap.

Cliff smiled and pressed his templed to Rick’s and kissed him quickly, “Well now that you have me in your lap, what do plan to do to me Mr Dalton?”

“Whatever I want.” Rick said softly, his fingers plucking at the button’s on Cliff’s vest, “You’re all wrapped up like a birthday present.”

“That’s your fault.” Cliff said settling his knees on either side of Rick’s hips.

“Oh, I’m not complaining, you look so damned dapper, in your black suit, it really shows off, well it shows off you in a way I rarely get to see you.”

“It feels like a costume.” Cliff said softly, feeling vulnerable.

“Well, I’ve never had a problem with dressing up, we could do a little role playing if you want.” Rick purred.

“Rick,” Cliff said, “I’ll be whatever or whoever you want.”

“Is that so?” Rick asked arching a dark eyebrow.

“You know it is.” Cliff whispered his voice growing husky with desire.

Rick cupped his hands around Cliff’s face and kissed him, once, twice, three times and tilted him sideways and shifted him on top, there was just enough room for them to lay across the bench seat, the top of Cliff’s head brushed the passenger door, Cliff cocked his eyebrow watching Rick and spread his knees letting Rick settle between his legs.

“I don’t need you to be anyone but you.” Rick said quickly before kissing Cliff hungrily.

Cliff squeezed Rick tightly in his arms, he could hear some of stitches pop in his jacket, but didn’t care, he wanted to hold on to Rick, to feel his body pressed against him. Rick’s hips shifted, seeking friction, his cock was stiff. In a flash both their hands were pulling at their clothes, tugging at zippers, working their briefs down, and grasping for each other’s cocks.

“Let me.” Rick said, as he pulled Cliff’s hand up and kissed his knuckles, “I want to.”

Cliff nodded watching Rick, his face had become shadowy in the evening light, the parking structure lamps were dim and cast a pale thin beams, turning Rick’s blue eyes slivery. Cliff stroked Rick’s cheek with his knuckles and nodded again. Rick slid down and grasped Cliff’s cock. Cliff’s breath caught in his throat when he felt a hot velvety stroke of Rick’s tongue on the head of his cock. “It’s been a long time,” Cliff said as he pressed his fingers into Rick’s hair and gently gripped.

“I know, trust me I know.” Rick murmured.

Cliff gasped feeling Rick’s tongue chase and lap over the head of his cock, it was usually Cliff sucking Rick off, taking the lead when they fucked, or did any of the other things that fell in-between making out and screwing.

“I’ve missed you.” Rick said.

Rick’s mouth watered, he pressed his cheek against the Cliff’s hipbone, he’d never gone down on Rick or anyone for that matter, he was feeling nervous, self-conscious even, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Rick squeezed Cliff’s hips, anchoring himself in a fashion, and parted his lips, he lifted his eyes, and saw that Cliff was watching him, Rick kept his eyes on Cliff’s and placed one hand around Cliff’s stiff cock and sucked the tip, he licked and sucked all the while watching Cliff’s eyes.

Cliff groaned, he arched his back, and then lifted his hips feeling overwhelmed by the sensation, he lifted his hips and moaned again when he felt Rick take him deeper.

Rick wrapped a hand around the root of Cliff’s cock, and the other gently squeezed his balls, stoking his desire.

Cliff gripped Rick’s hair, hips hitching up, his legs wrapping tightly around Rick’s waist. “Rick!” Cliff groaned his lover’s name as he began to fuck into his mouth. It had been so long since they’d made love, Cliff’s whole being was consumed with desire, he groaned and growled, his hips pumping eagerly, his fingers knotted in Rick’s hair. Cliff closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold back, trying make the moment last.

Rick pulled back, his eyes were watering, he could feel his throat constrict, but the more Cliff pulled at him, and and the more Cliff’s cock thrusted into him the more he felt the fire of desire, his own cock jumped and twitched, he was achingly hard. Rick felt Cliff’s cock nudge roughly at his throat and pulled back for an instant and then drew him in again, not wanting to stop.

Cliff’s hips snapped up, and he spilled into Rick’s mouth and throat, he’d lost control. Cliff released Rick’s hair feeling his head jerk.

Rick drew back quickly, he swallowed and coughed, and swallowed again, his mouth felt slick with the salt of Cliff’s seed. He coughed again and cleared his throat, and ran his hand over his mouth feeling breathless and a little dizzy.

Cliff reached down and grasped Rick’s shirt collar and tugged at him, till he felt Rick crawling up.

Rick brushed his nose and lips against Cliff’s, he reached down and touched himself, he was aroused to the point of tenderness. Cliff’s hand stroked over Ricks and tugged at Rick’s cock.

“Cliff,” Rick murmured as he buried his face in his lover’s neck. Cliff’s hands were calloused and his grip was strong. Rick hitched his hips up, his cock swollen and quickly becoming chafed and hot under Cliff’s attention. “Cliff!” Rick yelped, feeling undone, his hips hitched again and he spilled on the fine woolen fabric of Cliff’s black tuxedo.

Rick brushed his nose to Cliff’s. He could feel Cliff’s breath coming fast, and hot against his cheek. Rick tilted his head his lips brushing Cliff’s seeking purchase, and Cliff’s mouth parted over his.

They kissed long and slow. Cliff didn’t mind tasting himself, and he squeezed Rick closer, holding him tight. The breeze that had been blowing had gone from warm to cool, it was a tepid September night, and even with the windows rolled down they were both drenched in sweat. Rick pulled from the kiss. Cliff folded his arms tightly around Rick.

“You’re gonna break my ribs,” Rick complained softly as he reveled in the embrace.

“I would never.” Cliff said softly, his now stubbled cheek brushing against Rick’s neck, “I love you. I love you so much it hurts, I love you Rick Dalton, don’t you ever leave my side again, you were gone for so long, I didn’t know, I didn’t know it would hurt so much for you to be gone so long.”

“I’m sorry.” Rick said feeling Cliff’s embrace him tightly “It was miserable. You know I love you, don’t you? There’s no one for me but you. I s-swear you’re the love of my life.”

They laid there till their sweat dried, and the air eventually started to feel cool. At some point they were both seated upright and Cliff found his pack of cigarettes and they shared a smoke, staring across the hazy night sky, the tall letters of the Hollywood sign illuminated in the night.

Rick leaned into Cliff, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder. He marveled at his life, how it had led him on such a strange and twisting path, from Missouri to California and into the arms of the man that he loved so dearly. How he’d nearly ruined it by getting married and then again by going to Berlin, how his heart had nearly shattered the night of the accident as he’d watched powerless to stop it.

Cliff took a long drag from the cigarette and passed it back to Rick, he watched the spotlights’s beams from Grauman’s Chinese Theaterv and cross in the sky, the neon sign above the Roosevelt Hotel blinked on and off, the R flickering like a firefly. He squeezed Rick to his side and rested his head on top of his lover’s. “I love you.” He said, and it felt like a prayer, and a sweet release, and a miracle, but most of all it felt true, like a gospel, like a fact and a miracle all rolled into one.

“I love you too.” Rick answered and kissed Cliff tenderly.

Cliff pressed his temple to Rick’s and felt a hot tear escape the corner of his eyes, which was strange, because he couldn’t help but smile, and he kissed Rick’s lips and cheek and jaw, and trailed a garland of kisses up to his temple, because words were not enough.

“Are you okay? Are you hurtin’?” Rick’s voice was low, his accent growing singsong and soft as it so often did when he was tired, it was one of Cliff’s favorite sounds. Rick ran his thumb under Cliff’s eye wiping away the tear.

“Nothing hurts when I’ve got you in my arms.” Cliff whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> Film Facts:  
> On June 23, 1971, the film Le Mans debuted. With a budget of $7.5 million, another $2 million in promotions, but only earned $5.5 million at the Box Office.
> 
> Five Easy Pieces premiered at the New York Film Festival (but I didn’t want to stick Cliff and Rick on an airplane, this fic has gone on too long already).
> 
> Happy Birthday USSTrashBarge! It's here, it really happened, 38 days late, but it's HERE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 
> 
> Comments and or questions are most welcome, thank you so much for reading!


End file.
